


Companionship in the Apocalypse

by inkwells_writing



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Happy Ending, M/M, Zombie Apocalypse, i dont know what else to tag this???, there is a lot of cursing tho and some minor injury, theres no death dont worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 05:57:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12811119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkwells_writing/pseuds/inkwells_writing
Summary: Alfred and his brother had been surviving just fine, up until Matthew made the decision to trust some people he really shouldn’t have. When hope seems pretty much lost, a strangers brings promises of a group with safety and friendship. Alfred isn’t sure if he can trust this stranger, but he also realizes the stranger is, like, kinda hot.





	Companionship in the Apocalypse

Alfred cursed as he dropped the wrench, “Shit, shit, come on, come on, hurry up.”

Matthew let out a pained laugh, “I don’t know why you’re trying to tell me to do that, I can’t walk.”

Alfred lifted his head from the hood of the truck and glared through the window at his brother, who was leaning in the back seat, “You know I wasn’t talking to you, shithead.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

Alfred slammed the hood closed, “That’s supposed to be my job.” He climbed into the front seat through the open door and tried the key’s again, only to hear the car splutter and die again. “Fucking hell, I have no idea why it’s not working.”

“Did you tighten the oil can container with the 3-times wrench?” Matthew called.

“Shut up, just because you know jack-shit about cars doesn’t mean you need to make fun of me, Mr. I-Know-How-To-Knit. Besides, I’m saving us right now.” Alfred huffed as he slid out of the truck and walked back to the hood.

“You’re not doing a good job of it.” Matthew said dryly. 

Alfred sighed and mumbled, “I know.” He worked in silence for a minute, trying to forget the events of the past few hours.

“Hey, hey hey, don’t get all sad. It was my idea to trust them. I didn’t know they would do… this…” He looked down at his leg, which was haphazardly wrapped with bandages. Matthew frowned at the poor job, “I really need to show you how to clean a wound. I swear if I die from infe-” He cut himself off, overwhelmed by the irony of the statement. 

Alfred froze before he shook his head and kept fiddling under the hood, “And I need to teach you how to know when to trust people. Honestly, one cute girl and you’re falling over to worship the ground she walks on.”

Matthew huffed, “The guy was cute too…” 

Alfred snorted, “Yeah, if you like black haired creeps.”

“Do we have enough parts to fix what they broke?” Matthew said as he changed the subject.

“I’m not sure. If I had more time, maybe, but they fired guns on their way out… There’s probably a horde approaching…”

Matthew looked down, “If you left right now you could get out before any zombies got here.”

Alfred looked up and glared, “I’m not gonna fucking leave you. You’re my brother.”

Matthew laughed, “Yeah, yeah, still. Now I can say I told you so when we get eaten.’

“We’re not going to get eaten, I’ve almost got the car fixed.”

“That’s what you said earlier. And then the car didn’t start.”

“Bro, come on. Have a little faith in me. I’ve kept us alive this long.”

Matthew laughed, “Okay, fine. Maybe your boy scout lessons will help us.”

Alfred laughed, “Hey, I’m an eagle scout and you know it.”

“How could I forget sitting through that ceremony.”

Alfred let himself fall silent so he could focus on fixing the car. If he couldn’t find a replacement part for what those assholes had stolen… But that didn’t matter. He could figure something out. Even if he had to carry his brother out, this wouldn’t be the end of them. 

He just needed a miracle. Or a spark plug. 

 

Arthur wished for death. He had to go on a bloody stupid scavenging mission with Francis. And they weren’t even looking for food or medicine, things he understood. They had to dig through broken down cars and find enough stuff to fix the dying car at camp. The thing was way too old and had seen far too many cities to properly work. But they were heading out of camp soon, and they needed to fix the car before they could leave. And of course Ludwig had to work on another car and couldn’t go.

So here he was, tromping around a decrepit city, comparing drawings of different engine parts because of course their camp had no people, other than Ludwig, who could understand the bloody machines. 

And their camp had a strict buddy system, to watch each other’s backs, and he got stuck with Francis. 

“Arthur, does this thing look like it matches?”

“Francis, for the last time, I have no clue. Just put it in the bag. If we get the wrong thing, we’ll just send someone else out.”

Francis laughed and moved over to another car in the car garage they were in, “Wow, I didn’t know you woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

Arthur chose to ignore him. He just wanted to get back to camp. They had heard gunshots earlier, and were trying to avoid the area, but with the luck they were having finding parts, they would have to head over to that side of the city. 

“Arthur, this garage is picked clean.”

“I know.”

“We’re going to have to go over to-”

“I know. Let’s head out now. I want to get back before dark. Plus, there's a chance a horde may head over to the gunshots.”

“Should I head west and plant a distraction? It’ll be safer for you.”

Arthur sighed, “As much as I want to save those for when we really need them, I think that would be best.”

Francis shouldered his bag and tossed Arthur the duffel bag full of parts, “Have fun. I’ll meet you on the bridge thirty minutes after you hear the explosion. If you don’t hear one in about fifteen, assume the worst.”

Arthur snorted, “One can only hope.”

“Oh, you wound me so.”

Arthur waved a goodbye and headed towards the exit of the parking garage, “I’ll be seeing you.”

“Don’t get lost.”

Arthur kept walking, headed straight towards where he had heard the gunshot. As dangerous as it would be if people were still there, gunshots meant people were fleeing quickly and they may have left supplies behind. He knew he was looking for car parts, but no one would complain if he brought back other things. So long as he found what they needed.

Ten minutes of quiet passed, Arthur passed only a few zombies and easily avoided them, when Arthur heard shouting.

It wasn’t malicious, it sounded more like the arguments him and Francis often got into. No real hatred behind them, just annoyance at the other. 

Even so, he got defensive at the sound of other people, pulling his gun out as he headed towards a crumbling car repair shop, where the noise seemed to be coming from. As he got closer, he could hear two men arguing about leaving the other behind. Apparently, they were under the impression a horde would be approaching the shop soon.

A good observation, but it would be pointless to think about once Francis’s bomb went off-

Arthur flinched as the explosion went off to the west.

The two in the shop went quiet, until Arthur heard one of them chuckle, “At least we no longer have to worry about a horde. You can take your time fixing the stupid car, bro.”

That got Arthur’s attention. If these two could be trusted, and one could even fix cars, they would be valuable to the group. Plus, a replacement _car_ would be a lot better than a replacement car _part_.

Arthur held his breath and tried to figure out a way to enter the shop without either one of the brothers (as he assumed they were) shooting him on sight. 

For once, he wished Francis was here. He was always better at talking to people. Not that Arthur would ever admit that out loud. 

 

Alfred watched his brother pick up his pistol. The explosion had been loud and scary, especially considering there was no discernible reason for it happening. 

Alfred as about to go back to fixing the car when an unfamiliar voice rung out through the shop, “Don’t shoot.”

Alfred whipped around, pulling his gun out of his waistband and aiming at the door that was now open, ready to do exactly what the voice requested him _not_ to do. A man stood there, his hands in the air and a duffel bag next to him. He had blonde hair, green eyes, and was covered in the typical grime that he associated with everyone nowadays. 

“Who are you?” Alfred asked, his voice clear and hard. If the man had shown up a few days ago, Alfred would have welcomed him with open arms. Given the circumstances of the last few hours, Alfred wasn’t willing to trust anyone. Not right away. Still, he couldn’t help but eye the duffel bag the man had next to him. Supplies were supplies.

“I am Arthur, and I am part of a group who are traveling together and heading east. I heard the two of you arguing over car troubles and thought I could help.” The man, Arthur, began to reach down to his bag.

Alfred tightened his grip on his gun, but kept his finger off the trigger, as he shouted, “Don’t move.”

The man straightened back up, “I-”

Matthew cut him off, “How do you think you can help us and why should we trust you.”

The man kicked his duffel bag towards Alfred as he spoke, “I have supplies in the bag- car parts.”

That got Alfred’s attention.

“Our group welcomes almost everyone. We would love to have two new members, especially if you are proficient in vehicles.” 

Alfred glared at Arthur, distrust clear on his face, “What do you mean ‘almost’ everyone?”

“People who murder for no reason, people who steal from those who obviously need it more than them, those who touch others without their consent, those who for some stupid reason still hold bigotry from the Old Times in their heart. We don’t let those type of people in our group. So, I guess if any of those labels fit you two, it’d be best if you gave me my bag back and let me walk away.”

Matthew sighed and lowered his gun, “If he’s telling the truth, Alfred, think of how amazing that would be. A group to travel with would be a lot safer.”

Alfred continued to glare at Arthur as he ignored his brother, “You still haven’t given us a reason to trust you. Who’s to say you’re not planning on taking the car once I fix it.”

“You’re right, I could be. It’d be clever.” Arthur began, “But I think it would be a horrid way to live, as blinded by mistrust as you are. I offer you the safety and companionship of a group, and I think it would be smart to take my offer.” 

“And if we don’t?”

“I’ll take my bag and leave.”

Matthew spoke up again, shifting his position in the back, “Alfred, we should trust him. Not everyone is like the last two.”

The man’s gaze flickered towards Matthew as he added, “We have medical supplies too, and doctors.”

Alfred sighed and lowered his gun, “Alright Arthur, what have I got to lose?”

Arthur’s posture got noticeably less tense as he strode forward. Alfred slipped his gun into its holster and gestured at the bag, “So parts do you got in there? Any chance a spark plug?”

The man snorted, “I have no idea.”

Matthew laughed from the truck, “Have you just been digging around cars and taking what looked like it was in working condition?”

Alfred saw a light flush on the man’s ears as he spoke, “Ludwig is the mechanic of our little caravan. I’m just here to collect supplies.”

Alfred shrugged and dropped down to his knees to look into the worn bag, “As long as there is a spark plug…” He trailed off as he shifted through the bag. He few seconds passed before he let out a cry of triumph. 

Arthur crossed his arms and looked down, “I’m assuming there was a spark plug in there?”

“Yeah!” Alfred cheered as he shot up and turned towards the hood of the car, “This should finally fix this piece of shit!” 

 

Arthur watched as Alfred did… something to the truck. He really could not comprehend anything that had to do with cars. 

He looked towards the backseat of the truck where the injured one was sitting. He walked towards him, still moving slowly. Although the two were willing to go with him, that didn’t mean they fully trusted him. And Alfred did not seem too inclined to trust him as much as they had.

“I don’t think I caught your name,” Arthur said.

“Matthew.”

Arthur gestured at the horrid patch-job on his leg, “I could help you rewrap that. I’m not as good as some people in our group, but I’ve picked up on enough.”

Matthew laughed, “No, I’m normally the one patching me and my brother up. This was Alfred rushing. I can fix it up, there’s no need to bother you.”

Arthur scoffed, “Nonsense. I don’t care how good you are, it’s a pain in the arse to wrap up your own leg.”

Alfred called, “Yeah, Matthew, if he can help your leg…”

Matthew sighed, “Alright,” as he scooted over in the seat to let Arthur hop in next to him. Arthur gently unwrapped the cloth that was there, grimacing at the torn up skin.

“Bloody hell, what happened?” He paused as he examined the wound before he recoiled quickly, “That’s not a bite is it-”

Matthew raised his hands, frantic, “No, no, no! It’s fine. It’s a normal wound, not a bite, I promise. They lured us down an alley and there was barbed wire that we didn’t notice and they had a shot gun and-”

Arthur calmed as the boy explained his wound.

“-And,” Alfred piped up, “My idiot brother over here decided to trust people who destroyed our car and ran with most of our supplies.”

Matthew laughed, “It’s surprising too, normally Alfred is the one to get lured in by a pretty face.”

Arthur took off his backpack and dug around for the emergency supplies he had thrown in there before him and Francis took off. Pulling out some bandages, he began to rewrap Matthew’s leg. “You can trust me when I say there aren’t many pretty faces back at camp.”

Matthew laughed and Arthur let himself smile, it was rare to find people who could joke around easily. And the banter between the brother’s didn’t feel forced or fake, they seemed… peaceful. 

He slipped into an easy silence, absorbed in rewrapping the injured leg. He blinked as he realized it had been a while since Francis’s explosion went off.

He jolted as he looked at his wristwatch, “Ah, Alfred?”

“Whats up?” The man responded.

“How long do you think your repairs are going to take? I need to get to the bridge at the edge of town in ten minutes. I promised Francis we’d meet up there.”

Alfred slammed the hood of the car shut as he picked up the duffel bag. “Just finished, actually.” He tossed the duffel bag into the truck front seat through an open window.

Matthew spoke up, “You may want to get into the front seat. I’m normally shotgun, but with my leg as it is, I don’t think I’ll be able to aim as well as I normally do.”

Arthur nodded and got out of the car. He crossed around the front, passing Alfred who was fiddling with a panel on the wall, and got into the front seat. As he looked at the truck, he noticed how empty it was. Arthur pulled his pistol out of its holster and turned to look at Matthew, “There’s nothing in the truck, don’t you two have any supplies?”

Alfred said, “We did, but we told you, they took all our supplies except what we had on us. Now,” He looked over at the truck, “Can you start the car to make sure it works?”

Arthur leaned over to the driver's seat and turned the keys. The car sputtered to life as Alfred gained a large smile, “There she is.”

He slammed a button on the wall and the large door to the garage opened as he ran back to the car. He hopped into the driver’s seat and shifted from park into drive. As he pulled into the streets, driving rather recklessly, he called, “So where’s this bridge at?”

Arthur gave directions, keeping a watchful eye out for any movement that could become dangerous to the truck. Decrepit buildings passed quickly, and no movement other than wind seemed to disturb the streets. All signs of life or death were nonexistent. This made Arthur uncomfortable, a picked-clean town meant the zombies had all grouped up. A horde nearby was a lot more dangerous than many scattered zombies. 

Arthur expected the drive to be silent, but Alfred surprised him by speaking up, “So this group of yours. How big is it?”

Arthur frowned as he watched the streets, “Around twenty people, I’d say. Ludwig, one of our leaders, tends to pick up stragglers on our way east.”

Matthew asked, “Why are you guys heading east?”

Arthur felt his frown deepen, “Me and Ludwig knew each other Before. Our brother’s were sharing a dorm in New York, and Before we had plans to fly down and visit them for the holidays. Those plans got interrupted, obviously, but we’ve been heading east ever since.”

The two brothers were silent, and Arthur could imagine that they were considering being in his place, desperately searching for one another. Arthur braced himself for the pity they were going to give him.

They spoke at the same time, their, “I’m sorry”’s overlapping.

Arthur didn’t respond. 

They were silent once more, and Arthur only spoke up to direct Alfred to the bridge where Francis was waiting. 

As they reached the center of the bridge, Arthur instructed Alfred to stop the truck, knowing that the vehicle would make Francis hide until he knew who was in it. 

Arthur hopped out, telling the brothers to wait in the car, and sparing a glance to the smoking building nearby that signified Francis’s explosive. Francis had chosen a taller building, and he noticed the smoke was rising from a high-up window. Luckily, the building was off the side of the bridge, and any zombies that were attracted to the noise would avoid the bridge in favor of the promise of flesh.

“Francis. I’m here. I picked up stragglers too.” Arthur called out. 

He heard a shuffling and turned to see Francis peek out from a pile of rubble, a handgun raised and pointed at the truck. 

Arthur heard a yelp come from the car and out of the corner of his eye he saw Alfred scramble to grab his gun, but Arthur just chuckled.

“Come off it, Francis. These two are going to join our group. The one in the front is, thank hell, a mechanic. They haven’t tried to kill me and rob me yet, so I think it’s safe to say they won’t try it at all.”

Arthur’s words resulted in a sudden shift in Francis’s mood, and he smiled and dropped his gun, “Perfect! We should get going back to camp. I saw a horde approaching from the south, and I am sure that is why we haven’t seen any straggling zombies.”

Arthur nodded and got back in the truck. Francis’s words matched up with what he assumed. They would have to warn Ludwig.

As Francis hopped in the truck, all signs of his earlier mistrust gone, Matthew made room for Francis. The brothers asked surprisingly few questions, Alfred followed their directions back to their camp. 

When they arrived, things happened as they normally did when people joined their group. Arthur handed them off to Ludwig so he could go give his supplies to Kiku, who knew where Ludwig keeps his repair parts. Ludwig took the brothers aside, did what he considered a “background check” to make sure they were not planning on robbing them blind in the middle of the night. Ludwig then took them to Kiku, who was the most skilled in the group at handling injuries. While Matthew was getting his leg properly treated, they were both checked for bites. 

Arthur didn’t envy them during that part. It happened to everyone, especially after close calls with a zombie. It was always awkward, but he knew it was a necessity. 

Normally, they would then be shown around, but with Matthew unable to walk, Alfred was unwilling to leave his brother’s side. Instead, Ludwig sent Arthur into the makeshift medical tent and had him explain the jobs and assignments of their group. 

Apparently, since they already knew Arthur, they would trust him more. And so, Arthur sat on the floor next to the cot, going over the ins and odds of their camp. He explained the roles of people who had some medical training from Before, and the roles of those who could fight, those who could hunt, those who could repair and sew and everything needed to run a small, functional group. 

The two brothers (twins, Arthur suspected) listened intently, asking questions as to what they would be doing and when the group would be heading out again. Arthur answered, trying to be polite, but he knew he was failing when he snapped at Alfred for insinuating he was one of the people who did menial tasks around camp.

He could hold his own alone, thank you very much. He was a better shot with his pistol than most people in the camp. And he told the brothers that, who only laughed and made more comments on his abilities in the field.

He left soon after, annoyed by what he later realized was playful banter from the two. It was strange, as normally only Francis would tease him like that.

However, Arthur can’t say he hated it.

 

“Hey Alfred,” Matthew asked as they watched Arthur walk out.

“Yeah?” 

“I saw you watching him you know,” Matthew side-eyed his brother who was sitting on the floor next to him.

Alfred huffed and glared at Matthew, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.”

Matthew only laughed as Alfred reached up and slapped his arm. 

The new group they had found seemed like just they place they needed to finally feel safe. Well, as safe as one could feel during the apocalypse.

**Author's Note:**

> i may add more little stories to this universe?? i had fun writing it  
> kudos are appreciated and comments are loved!!!! find my @inkwells-writing on tumblr! i talk a lot and post my fics there, and its also where i take requests!!


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